


Our Way Out

by lovesickxpsycho



Category: Columbine - Fandom, Eric Harris - Fandom, True Crime - Fandom
Genre: Bullying, Columbine, Don’t like it don’t read it, Eating Disorders, F/M, Gun Violence, High School, Mass Murder, Massacre, Mental Health Issues, Murder-Suicide, Reincarnation, Romance, Sad Ending, School, School Shootings, School Violence, Self-Harm, True Crime, anger issues, columbine high school - Freeform, tcc
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-03-15
Updated: 2021-03-16
Packaged: 2021-03-23 06:21:01
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 5
Words: 14,713
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/30051222
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lovesickxpsycho/pseuds/lovesickxpsycho
Summary: Eighteen years after the Columbine Massacre, chaos begins to unfold yet again. Except this time, a new name has been added to the mix.This story is based around the idea of reincarnation and the concept of that happening 18 years after death. Meaning no, this story does not take place in 1999.If you don’t like reading this stuff, then don’t. It’s that simple.All trigger warnings are in the tags.
Relationships: Eric Harris/Original Female Character(s), Eric Harris/Reader
Kudos: 5





	1. “Chance”

**Author's Note:**

> This chapter is a little darker than the most and is partially a prologue. I promise the whole story isn’t this depressing 😂.

Walking through the graveyard, that was when I first realized I wasn't like other kids. I was five at the time. My grandmother had just passed away, and we were standing outside in the cemetery after the service. About to go home. The entire day, I hadn't felt anything.

My family thought it was just because I was a kid. So obviously I wouldn't understand death.

Obviously I wouldn't understand that she was gone forever.

But I did. I understood perfectly. I knew exactly what happened. I just simply did not care. And as I got older it became more and more apparent to me that this wasn't normal. So I started acting like other kids. I would say I acted normal, but what is 'normal'? It's a social construct. That's what it is. Normal is different for everyone. We make our own normal.

I was born in 2017, so at that time it was about 2022.

January 13th, 2017. To be specific.

Then again, I was Four when I found out who the toybox killer was. Yeah, that didn't scare me as much as one would think though. And neither did finding out who Ted Bundy was at the age of five. Or what Columbine was at seven. Or anything really.

None of it scared me.

When I was 7, just before finding out about Columbine, there was a shooting, I watched the news coverage online.

My parents never had a clue I even knew it happened. But I did.

It was funny, y'know, growing up with a family who tried so desperately to protect me from things they had no idea I already knew about.

But I never feared any of it. And maybe that's because deep down, I wanted it. Not for it to happen to me, but for me to cause it for someone else. But I was only four when I found a true crime case for the first time. How could I possibly have craved blood shed that young?

I didn't.

Not until fifth grade when I started being bullied worse than before. When my 'best friend' turned on me. But I didn't leave because she kept convincing me she was my only friend even though she wasn't. She'd tell me everyone else hated me and that she was my only real friend, when in reality she hated me and she was my only fake friend.

Well more or less.

I had two other fake friends I later found out about.

At first I just wanted revenge on Taylor (my 'best friend'). And it stayed that way for a while. Or at least a couple months. But the more she told me people hated me, the more I believed it. And with that, came the hatred of a lot of other people too.

It became a fact of me hating everyone and only liking a few. It was only because I thought they hated me though, I wouldn't have hated them otherwise, I was mad they had such negative feelings for me when they didn't even know me. And that was when I started wanting revenge on more people than just Taylor.... I wanted revenge on the school.

And that need for revenge only got stronger as the years would go on.

By the end of sixth grade, I had accidentally found out what self harm and suicide were while online. Keep in mind, I never did anything with that information. At least not for a while.

But it put the idea in the back of my mind.

Taylor and my other 'friend' Maddie turned on me again after months of claiming to be my 'best friends'. That was also when I first saw the scarier side of Taylor when she hated a guy in our class, and plotted to murder him. As in she fully had a plan ready to do it and I told the teacher because I overheard her tell Maddie about it.

The teacher didn't believe me.

But nothing ever came of it since the guy left the school not long after. (Unrelatedly).

The beginning of seventh grade I got an email from Maddie. A really fucking long email. One that well.. said a girl I knew in fifth grade had called me a psycho. Said I was a manipulative person and that I was manipulating all my friends. Said that people were only friends with me because they were afraid of me. Called me stupid, ugly, annoying and about every swear word there is was thrown in there somewhere.

She sent it on our school email system. Regardless, I had found the email when I was at home, working on homework. I felt a tear roll down my cheek, and then that was it. I broke down crying.

I didn't tell anyone about the email for weeks. Eventually I told my teacher who talked to Maddie about it and made me print out a copy which she gave to the principal. The principal never did anything about it. He passed it off as 'girl drama'.

Eventually I had finally had enough of everything. The things I had previously learnt online no longer in the back of my mind. I was determined to do it and I was determined to succeed. Obviously, that didn't go so well. That night it was about 9pm. I asked my mom if I could take a shower and obviously she said yes. So as usual, I got in the shower like I always would.

The only difference being that this time I had snuck a blade in with me.

And at first it was scary..

I didn't want to do it but felt like I had to in a weird way. So I did. I closed my eyes, and quickly pulled the small cold piece of metal across my arm.

It wasn't as bad as I thought. I looked down at my arm, watched the blood drip down to the floor of the shower. It almost felt peaceful for a moment.

Then I remembered what I was doing.

This time without hesitation, I just went for it. Continuing that process more times than I can remember. Probably about 20-30 times. I'm not really sure. But nothing really happened.. so I accepted defeat and got out of the shower, grabbing toilet paper and wrapping it around my arm for a minute while I put my clothes back on.

Thankfully I had known I might not succeed and had gotten a long sleeve pyjama shirt. I pulled the shirt over my head after tossing the toilet paper into the toilet, turning on the sink and putting my arm under it. It stung at first, I flinched, but then I got used to it a little more.

I stood there until the bleeding stopped and then rolled my sleeve back down, putting everything where it was before and flushing the toilet before walking away like nothing ever happened.

Weeks passed, my mom made me try on an outfit at the mall and she found out. I hadn't done anything since that night though so it was basically just scars at that point.

She just left it at "why?" and "you know I love you right?".

When I didn't tell her why she didn't ask any further questions (much to my surprise) and just left it at that. She didn't mention it again after that. Taylor started texting me and I'm sure you can imagine she wasn't exactly saying the kindest of things. The next year, eighth grade, the messages got worse. She was making new accounts so that I couldn't block her too.

It was getting ridiculous.

That was it happened..... I was sitting in class, working on an assignment, sitting next to my 'best friend' Serenity, when I looked over at her screen. That was when I saw my name typed out. "Chance." I didn't read past that before saying something. "What're you doing?" She looked at me confused. "I said what are you doing. I know I saw my name." I said, seriously.

"Your name is Chance. That doesn't mean much." She said, laughing nervously. "Serenity tell me.." I said, wanting to know what she was typing that involved me. "No." She said point blank as she closed the laptop. I felt like I was going to cry. "Stop it. You can't cry over this, and especially not now." I felt a tear roll down my cheek.

"Shit."

"Hey, hey, hey.. what's wrong? Why're you crying?" Bailey, my actual best friend asked, sounding concerned. I didn't say anything and she looked over at Serenity then back at me. I nodded.

Bailey made Serenity show her what she had been typing. Turns out my suspicions were right. She had been talking about me on a shared google doc. Eventually I convinced my teacher to let me read it. Death threats, worse than death threats, insults, pages of it. Absolutely pages of nothing but death threats, threats in general and insults.

Police got involved, sided with her.

Principal said they'd be suspended, lied to me. Police said I could press charges, principal talked my parents out of it.

Graduation. Summer. Relapse.

In August I finally gave in again, 2031, it had been a year. Except this time I didn't have intentions of death. Just a little pain. It wouldn't hurt anyone but me if they didn't know about it. But I knew better this time. I knew better than to do it on my arms and I knew better than to do it on my legs. I knew I'd eventually have to wear shorts or short sleeves. So I did it on my hip instead. The one place no one would ever be able to notice it.

No one but me that is.

A few weeks passed. Then I did it again. Then a few days passed before I did it again. Eventually it was a miracle if I made it more than 3 days in a row. But soon enough, it wasn't enough to stop how I felt. I thought back on that day in seventh grade. Thought about how nice it felt thinking that it was all about to be over for once. The sense of peace I had achieved in that moment despite it failing.

I took a deep breath, asking my mom if I could take a shower. Everything was semi-normal.

That was until I got into the bathroom, locked the door and opened the cabinet above the sink. I grabbed the first thing that came into my sight with shaky hands. A bottle of Advil. I took a deep breath, opening the bottle slowly so it wouldn't make too much noise before getting in to shower and sitting on the floor with the bottle in my hand, heart beating a mile a minute.

"Come on.. just don't think about it."

I knew I'd have to take near the full if not the full bottle if I wanted this to work. And I think that was what scared me most was how much time that would take me. Regardless, I filled a plastic cup with water from the shower, and started going through the bottle.

After that I sat there for a while, feeling a little dizzy but nothing too crazy. I got out of the shower, said goodnight to my mom and went to bed like nothing happened.

I slept through the entire next day and no one noticed.

I never told anyone what happened.

The next month, again, I went through the same process as seventh grade. Except this time I chickened out last second, calling my mom upstairs when I panicked. She didn't trust me home alone very much after that incident.

Ninth grade, silence. Suspicious silence. Then suddenly, it all started again. Taylor went back to messaging me and Maddie and Serenity became best friends.

But I didn't do anything this time. While I had already attempted twice that year, I had since managed 3 months without and I felt okay. Well okay-ish.

I still had off days like everyone does but I didn't actively feel like throwing myself off a cliff or anything.

Seven. Columbine. I remembered everything from the research I used to do. Everyone from my middle school had gone to my high school..... what if I just..

"No!" I accidentally said out loud. Thankfully being alone in my room so no one heard me. "I'm not a fucking psychopath.." I mumbled, thinking back to that email from seventh grade. But then again.. it couldn't hurt to just.... if I have nothing to lose....... I hit myself. "Stop it." I mumbled, laying down on my side, facing the door. Soon falling asleep, the thought of the damage I could do running in my head, causing me slight stress but regardless I faded into the peaceful unconscious state of sleep.

February 9th, 2032

I've thought about it for a while now. And yeah, I'm only in ninth grade and have barely even been to the school. But that's besides the point. The point is I want to do this. It's about the people but it's not.... yes there's certain people I hate more than others but it's the school system that's failed me so many times, the fact that even the police have failed me so many times, why shouldn't I fail them? I have no obligation to treat them well if they can't treat me well. I mean isn't that like the golden rule or some shit? 'Treat others as you would want to be treated' well a bitch threatened to kill me. I have every right to do as I please. She treated me one way. I have the right to treat her the same. If she wants to make me fear for my life... than so fucking help me god, I'll make her fear for hers. Two years. I'm doing this in grade eleven. What date? Who knows. But that's when I'm doing this. I'll pick a date later. That doesn't matter. What matters is figuring out how to do everything before then while I'm still a minor. And I suppose depending on how much inspiration I really do take from Columbine, might always be a minor. Then again, I think things would end that way whether I was drawing inspiration from what they did or not. I mean it's not like I've ever been to happy about life anyway. I just wanna go for it, take out as many people as I can with me just as real final 'fuck you' to this doomed world and just end everything. Take as many of those bitches out with me as I can in the process too. As much damage as possible, shortest amount of time, least security, revenge. Watch your fucking back Ridgeview High School. Or don't. Just makes things easier for me. Easier than you've already made it with lockdown drills that is. Y'all know you're teaching the shooters where in classrooms to aim right? Speaking of aim I've never even touched a gun, this isn't gonna end well is it? I need to find a way to practice this without actually practicing with a real weapon so I'm not totally useless when I finally get my hands on something real. I mean then again, I could just go shooting with uncle Tony. He always seems to offer but I've always turned it down. He's fairly sexist though so he just makes joke about how 'girls can't handle guns' whenever I decline the offer. It's pathetic really. My gender has nothing to do with my handling of weapons thank you very much mr. I'm gonna be the uncle of a school shooter in two years. God he annoys me. Could he just take a break from the misogyny for two seconds. I mean what ever happened to good old misanthropists? Why can't we have unprejudiced hatred these days? At least if I hate the human species (which I do) there's reason for it. Unlike misogyny which is just well.. not based on any facts. Or racism that's well.. a bunch of absolute idiots who really just scream 'imbecile' but probably can't even spell the damn word. Or fucking misandrists. Like what- I know men are annoying but sheesh. Don't have to generalize the whole population of them. So as I was saying, hate everyone equally or don't hate anyone at all. Simple really. Or at least it should be simple. Some people aren't so smart. 'Cause to be honest, common sense ain't so common anymore. That is if it ever was. Maybe it's called 'common sense' out of irony or some shit. I guess my name is fitting though. "Chance". What were chances of a fourteen year old plotting something like this. Pretty fucking high when you stick her in a school full of idiots, in a world with an annoying ass principal, and a shitty ass police force. Maybe you should've listened when I told you what was happening.Maybe then I never even would have came down to this conclusion. But it's too late for that now. I've made up my mind. Sure I'll just be another statistic. But so will every fucking other person I take down with me. At least my name will be out there, better known, I'll be a little more than a statistic than them. Maybe not for the right reasons, but for reasons I'm damn proud of. Yes I just said I'm proud of plotting this. Because I am. It's the truth. I'm proud I'm not dumb enough to think this world is perfect and I'm damn fucking proud I'm willing to actually do something about it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I forgot her birthday was in January, she’s 15 in the current time in the story. Not 14. Sorry.


	2. “And I Don’t Even Know What”

"He found a six shooter gun, in his dads closet, in a box of fun things, and I don't even know what.." I sang quietly, laying on my bed, staring at the ceiling. My mind running a mile a minute. Focusing on this song being the only thing keeping me calm.

"But he's coming for you, yeah he's coming for you...."

"Chance!" My mom yelled. "Yeah?" I call back, sitting up, on the end of my bed as she walked into the room. "Have you done your homework yet?" I nod, lying. "Alright, I'm going to bed." She said, reaching for the light switch. "I'd recommend you do the same."

"Will do, night mom." I say and she smiles. "Night sweetie, sweet dreams." She turned off the lights again, closing the door behind herself.

"All the other kids with the pumped up kicks...." I mumbled under my breath, taking my earbuds out and getting up off my bed and heading out of my room to the bathroom.

•

"Dude we are not doing that again." I heard a voice say behind me in the school hallway. I thought I was alone. Regardless I stayed quiet, continuing to put my books in my backpack and my books from my last class into my locker.

"Oh come on, it'll be fun." Another voice says, clearly forcing back a laugh.

"You saw how that ended last time." The first guy said. "Dylan, the whole world saw how that ended." Okay we have a name, wait, why do I care? "Besides, we just spend more time figuring things out this time with far more access to things online. Simple."

I zipped up my backpack, walking into another hall and to my next class.

•

I sat, bored out of my mind until I heard the announcements come on ice the P.A. system. "Initiating lockdown procedures, this is not a drill. I repeat, this is not a drill."

I froze in place, seeing people trample each other as they ran for the back of the room, one kid even being tripped and falling. "Chance, corner." The teacher whisper-yelled, snapping me back to reality. I quickly made my way over to the corner, sitting down. "Man you know you have issues when your first thought in this situation is 'damn someone beat me to it' and not 'holy shit I'm gonna die'." I thought, resting my head against the wall behind me, while kids around me were either crying, praying, or texting their parents.

After about five minutes the announcements came on again. "Lockdown procedures lifted. I apologize for any inconvenience, but I was supposed to put us into hold and secure, and not lockdown. Again, I'm really sorry for any panic this may have caused." Everyone in the class calmed down a little, looking around at each other hesitantly. Everyone seemed kinda of annoyed now more than they were scared.

"Come on, back to the lesson kids."

Every got up from the floor, heading back to their desks. I followed the group, sitting back at my usual seat.

"Nothing screams American high school like fake real lockdowns." I mentally laughed at that thought, thinking back on how everyone had reacted. "I wonder how it would feel if I was the one to cause that type of chaos.... what- stop it. You're in class!" I thought, moving my arm to hit myself but remembering I was in class and putting my arm down on the desk, leaning back in my chair and tuning out whatever the teacher was talking about.

•

"Long time no see." Taylor said, walking up to me in the hallway. "Not long enough." I said under my breath as I closed my locker. "What do you want Taylor?"

"Just wanted to check in on my bestie." God I hate that word.

Especially from her, aimed at me.

"Go away." I said, seriously. "What? Can't pay my best friend a little visit?" She asks and that was when I heard a voice from behind me. "She said leave her alone." "I recognize that voice." I thought, quickly realizing it was one of the guys from earlier. "Oh and what are you gonna do about it?" Taylor asked, turning to face him. I turned around as well. "Okay that kid looks a little too familiar.." I pushed my thoughts aside.

The guy mumbled something under his breath, glancing down at the ground. "That's what I though." Taylor said rudely, elbowing him as she walked past him. Leaving the two of us just staring at each other for a couple seconds before both bringing our attention to Taylor as she walked away.

"You alright?" I question, "I think I should be asking you that question." He said and I shrugged.

"I'm used to it." We both said at the same time. I just blinked at him, almost feeling bad for him? Maybe? No. I haven't done that, well.. ever?

He laughed awkwardly.

"Sorry, I should really be getting to class." I said, feeling uncomfortable. "Can I at least get your name?" He asks, "Chance." I say, zipping up my school bag. "Eric." He said, and I nodded.

"Just a piece of advice, Eric, don't mess with Taylor. She has her ways of destroying people socially." I say, seriously.

Without another word, I pulled my bag over my shoulders, and made my way to my class.

•

February 13th, 2032

March 13th. March 13th 2034. Two years from now. That's when I'm doing this. Why that date? Well for starters it's the 15th anniversary of the Suzano massacre. They've gotten better at stopping gun violence in schools recently. Or at least that's what people think. The truth is, nobody's been smart enough to find the million loopholes that still exist. Ridgeview has this whole rule against bringing backpacks into class now. Oh wow.. think about how nice that would look. 'The Ridgeview Massacre' it sounds so pretty just saying it. But besides that rule, what's stopping me from just walking into school, not even making it into a classroom and just shooting whoever I cross paths with? Nothing. Nothing is stopping me. I'm fully aware someone could tackle me and get the gun away from me after only the first few shots. But hey, at least I can say I tried unlike all those idiots out there who claim they hate this world and their school but never actually do anything about it. Just do the fucking world a favour and go for it. Don't think twice. Get a fucking weapon, go literally anywhere with a lot of people, and go for it. Nothing's stopping you. Absolutely nothing but morals. And news flash: the world doesn't need morals. We've just decided things that are perfectly normal to every other fucking creature on this earth is 'wrong' for a human to so much as think abou—

"Chance! Your sister needs help with her homework!" My dad yelled from downstairs.

I dropped the pen, closing my journal and shoving it in my desk drawer.

"Chance!" He yelled again as I made my way down the hall. "Would you calm down! I'm coming! Just give me a sec!" I yell, hopping down the stairs.

"Sorry for yelling. Your sister needs help with her math homework."

"Gee, 'cause I don't have enough of that on my own." I said, rolling my eyes. "Don't get snarky."

"Whatever dad." I said and he walked away to the kitchen. I made my way down the hall to Katie (my sister)'s room, closing the door behind myself. "Alright, hand over the worksheet." I say, taking out my phone and opening the calculator app. Despite it being fifth grade math, I once messed up what 2x2 was because I wasn't paying attention to what I was doing so since then I've used a calculator for the most basic math no matter what.

1.) 3.14 x 10 = 31.4

2.) 62.1 x 10 = 620

3.) 0.02 x 100 = 2

4.) 0.330 x 1,000 = 33

5.) 0.086 x 100 = 8.6

6.) 0.9 x 100 = 90

7.) 0.181 x 10 = 1.81

9.) 5.10 x 10 = 51

10.) 83.0 x 10 = 830

"Okay, here. Is that everything?" I ask, passing the paper back to Katie. "That's everything I need help with, yes." She says. "I wouldn't exactly call that 'help' but sure. I'm gonna go." I say, patting her head as I stand up.

I got back to my room, taking my notebook out again and picking up the pen.

We've just decided things that are perfectly normal to every other fucking creature on this earth is 'wrong' for a human to so much as think abou—

anyway as I was saying, there is nothing 'wrong' for a human to do except force other people to act a certain way. Which is exactly what this world has done. They've forced us all to act the same, subconsciously even made most of us dress the same, have the same interests, same morals, same thought process. And every time someone steps out of line they're deemed crazy. When in reality the only thing crazy is that more people haven't stepped over that line yet. Maybe that's because people are so far from that line that they don't even realize it exists. But I never made it to the side of that line everyone else is on. And I'm about to step even further from it once day 13 comes around. Oh yeah 'day 13' is what I'm calling this thing from now on. Not because I think someone will read this. I mean I've said enough here that they'd know regardless of what I start calling it now. But just because 'day 13' is a lot shorter and sounds a lot nicer than 'the massacre of my school' y'know? Honestly right now I'm just trying to figure out how the fuck to get my hands on a gun. Beyond that, trying to figure out what would be the best type of gun considering the circumstances. I mean, I have two major paths I could go down. Get a gun that's easy to conceal within an outfit. Some sort of hand gun basically. And just sit in class causally and then pull a Dylann Roof and just whip out a gun and start shooting at anyone in my line of sight. But I could also go down another route, find a better option and just start shooting in the halls so I don't have to worry about the no bags in class rule. God I hate that rule. It's so useless. Then again, I'm the exact type of person they need that rule because of. Anyway, I should probably get some sleep. It's getting kind of late.

•

"Alright, Chance, Eric, you two are partners." Mrs Wilson said. I rolled my eyes before realizing what she had said. "Eric? He's in this class?" I thought, slightly confused. How had I never noticed he was in this class?

"Also once you've been paired with someone you can begin talking about your project." She added and that was when I felt a tap on my shoulder. I turned around, slightly confused, only to realize Eric had been sitting behind me the entire time.

"Well that's awkward." I thought. "Hey." I said, moving so I was sitting backwards on my chair, sitting on my legs and my arms on the back of the plastic chair I was sitting on. "Hi."

We both awkwardly sat there for a couple seconds before I spoke up. "Neither of us payed attention to what the assignment was did we?" He shook his head 'no'. "Didn't think so." I say, standing up. "Where are you going?"

"Give me a minute." I say, walking up to the front of the room. "Mrs Wilson." I say, standing next to her desk. "Yes, Chance?"

"Could I please get a paper copy of the requirements for the project?" I ask, trying not to make it obvious I had no clue what the project even was. "Of course." She smiled, opening a folder and grabbing a sheet of paper. "Here." She handed the sheet to me. "Thank you." I said and she nodded before I walked back to my desk.

"Assignment." I say, putting the paper down on Eric's desk and sitting back how I was before.

I glanced down at the paper reading it.

Ecosystem Model Assignment

In this assignment, you and a partner must first pick an ecosystem before building a model out of whatever materials you find suit, of that ecosystem.

Requirements:

-All plants and animals must be things you would realistically see in your chosen environment.

-At least 3 animals from your chosen ecosystem.

-At least 3 plants from your chosen ecosystem.

-Realistic setting.

You must also label your model and write 2 pages (at least) about your chosen ecosystem in MLA format.

Due date: February 20th, 2032.

"Okay that seems simple enough I guess.." I say, tapping my fingers against the desk. "We have until Friday to complete it." I add.

"Wanna come over to my place after school and we can try and get some sort of head start on this? My dad can drive you home after." I offer. "Yeah, sure." He nods. "Meet me by the east doors after school, alright?" I say and he nods.

•

"Scissors." Eric said, sitting at a table across the room from me. "K." I said, reaching over to my bedside table and grabbing a pair of scissors from the drawer. "You any good at catching things or should I come over there?" I laugh. "You any good at aim or should I be ready to end up in the ER?"

"I'd say I'm decent." I say, throwing the scissors regardless, making sure I didn't throw them with enough force to actually hurt him. He flinched slightly but caught them regardless. "Thanks."

"No problem." I said, scrolling through the textbook on my laptop. I wrote something down before standing up from my bed and bringing my laptop with me over to my desk. "Also why the fuck do you keep scissors next to your bed?" He asks and I shrug as I sit down at the desk, opening Amazon, searching for model animals.

I grabbed my phone, texting my dad.

Me: Hey, can I order some stuff for school with your credit card?

Dad: "Yeah, of course. What is it though?"

Me: "Some model animals and fake plants for a science project."

Dad: "Sounds good. You should show me the project when it's done."

Me: "Will do. I'll see you when you get home."

Dad: "See you later, love you."

Me: "Love you too dad."

I put my phone down, turning it off.

I grabbed a sheet of paper from my desk that had my dads credit card information and our postal information in it, filling everything out on the computer before clicking the final button, placing the order before doing the same process for the fake plants.

"I mean I'm just saying, most people don't keep-" I cut him off. "Self defence. Very bad self defence. But my parents won't let me have anything that can do more damage." I say, partially lying. That wasn't why I kept scissors there and my parents didn't care what I had in my room as long as it was legal.

"You should really invest in a baseball bat then." He said seriously, still focused on whatever he was doing.

"Has anyone ever told you that you looked strangely familiar?" I ask, tilting my head slightly, looking over at him. "But you can't quite place your finger on it? Yeah. I get that a lot." He shrugs.

"You've probably just seen me around school before." He adds.

"No.. I don't quite think that's it....." I say, closing my laptop. "Then what do you think it is?" He asks, taking his hands away from the project and bringing his full attention to me. I just shrug. "As you said, I can't quite put my finger on it. But I've definitely seen you before. And not just at school."

"I'm sure you'll figure it out eventually."

"Maybe.."

February 16th, 2032

I don't really have much time to write right now since Eric is here (working on some assignment for science class). But I needed to rant about this for a minute. Taylor's gone back to texting me again. It's getting bad. Like death threats type bad. Again. I don't really know what to do though. It's not like I can tell anyone. They'll just side with her again. Besides that, it shouldn't even matter. I mean I'll be dead in two years anyway. Why do I care? Except I do care. I do care and it's driving me crazy. But by this time two years from now, I'll likely be armed, and then I won't have any reason to care what she thinks ever again because as far as I'm concerned, she'll be as good as dead once I get my hands on a weapon. Then again, a lot of people will be as good as dead. Including me. But I've been as good as dead since seventh grade to be honest. 

"Whatcha writing?" Eric asked, sneaking up behind me.

I jumped, forgetting my hand was on the page, and slamming the book closed so hard that it probably could've left a bruise even just from it being paper and cardboard. "Jeez. Someone's jumpy." He laughed, leaning on the back of my chair.

I slipped my hand out of the notebook. "None of your business." I said, seriously as I went to put the book back in my desk and he tried to grab it from me. "Eric I swear to fucking god-" I said, fighting against his will to get the book away, refusing to let go of the book. "Swear to god you'll what?" He asks, still trying to get the book from me.

I looked at him, dead serious, "I'll fucking end you." I said, not thinking before I spoke. He instantly let go of the book. "The fuck did you just say to me?"

"I- I'm sorry.." I mumbled, quickly fumbling to put the book away. "I didn't mean to!" I say, trying to defend myself.

"It doesn't matter." He said, still seeming a little thrown off by what I had said. My heart was still racing a mile a minute in fear. I was practically shaking. "You're cute when you're scared." He said, nearly laughing. I didn't say anything, I just say there, trying to process everything.

"Anyway, the assignment is done as far as we can get without the stuff you just ordered so I should probably get going." He said, finally pushing himself away from my chair.

"Yeah, I'll see you at school tomorrow." I said. "See ya." He said, picking up his school bag from the floor.

I heard him and my mom talk for a second once he got downstairs. I stood up, heading over to my door and closing it again, the faint scent of his cologne still lingering in the room. "God, I could get used to that.." I thought, immediately slapping my arm. "Stop it. You're as good as dead. Remember?" I tried to pull myself away from those thoughts but couldn't.

I groaned, grabbing my laptop and hoping onto my bed, clicking some random video on YouTube.

That was when it hit me.

That was when I realized why he looked so familiar..


	3. Sealed With A Kiss

I stared blankly at my computer screen. A documentary about Columbine playing silently as my mind felt like it was caving in on its self.

"People look alike Chance.. calm down." I mumbled, taking a sip of water, trying to stay calm.

I wanted to calm down, I really did. And yet within mere moments I found myself on a website about reincarnation, that stated it would happen eighteen years after death. So I texted Eric.

Me: "Hey."

Eric: "Hey, what's up?"

Me: "Can I ask you something?"

Eric: "Go for it."

Me: "When's your birthday?"

Eric: "April 20th, why?"

Me: "No reason, just curious. Do you know what time you were born at?"

Eric: "Uh... somewhere around noon? I think. Who cares 😂."

Me: "Me, apparently."

Eric: "Why do you ask, anyway?"

Me: "Just curious."

Eric: "When's your birthday?"

Me: "January 13th."

Eric: "Time?"

Me: "Really dude."

Eric: "Hey, you made me tell you. You tell me."

Me: "Around one AM. And I have to go, my family's going out for dinner tonight."

Eric: "Alright, I'll see you in class tomorrow."

Me: "Yeah, see you tomorrow. Bye."

•

February 17th, 2032

Okay I think I'm doing the dumbest and most risky thing I've ever done right now. Because I'm in class while writing this. But that's besides the point. The point is: my parents agreed for uncle Tony to give me shooting lessons once it's y'know.... not the middle of winter and there isn't snow everywhere you look anymore. So I have that going for me. As of right now, I'm in science class, no clue what we're meant to be doing or what the teacher is talking about. Well actually I'd assume we're meant to be listening to the teacher but you get my point. It's weird, knowing I'm never gonna graduate I mean. Because I still have to try to some extent in school so people don't get suspicious. But at the same time, I have no reason to pass. I'm not gonna graduate. I don't technically need to pass my classes.

"Alright, you have the rest of the period to work on your ecosystem projects." Mrs Wilson said. "If you're already don't then you can work on homework for other classes." She added.

<<God I want it to be 2034 already>> I scribbled down, before continuing.

~Karma is coming sooner than anyone realizes. They think they're safe and think they'll make it out of here okay. You go to American public school. You were never making it out of here alive. Don't you know never to bully the quiet kid?~

That was when I felt a tap on my shoulder. Expecting it to be Eric, I looked up, closing my notebook. Teacher. "They need you in the office. Something about your mom dropping off something for you." I nodded, immediately realizing I couldn't take the notebook with me and knowing people at this school look through unattended things.

"Eric." I said, turning to face him. "Yeah?" He questions, looking up from a textbook. "Mind keeping an eye on this? I have to go down to the office for a second." He nodded. "Yeah, sure. But what's your attachment to this notebook?" He questioned, taking it from me as I handed it to him. "Just had it a long time. Lotta personally stuff in it." I shrug. "Got it.." he said as I pushed my chair under the desk, heading out of the classroom and down to the main office.

•

I sat alone in my room, staring out the window down at the street. My room was nearly pitch black. The only light being from streetlights outside, shining through windows.

A slight glistening light shined onto the walls from the streetlights hitting the coil on my journal which sat next to me on my bed.

I stared absentmindedly as the snow fell from the sky to the ground.

Eric: "Hey. You up?"

Me: "God, you're one of 'those' guys aren't you? 😂."

Eric: "No. Just genuinely curious if you were up."

Me: "Why?"

Eric: "Your parents home?"

Me: "Yeah."

Eric: "Any chance of you sneaking out?"

Me: "There would be if I knew why 😂."

Eric: "Party. Dylan said he'd go with me but he ended up grounded and I hate going to parties alone."

Me: "Depends. Who's house?"

Eric: "Keira's."

Me: "Yeah, sure."

We continued texting for a couple minutes before I finally turned my phone off. I picked up my journal, putting it back in its usual hiding spot before heading over to my closet and grabbing a pair of black ripped jeans, a plain black t-shirt and changing into that before grabbing a grey and blue hoodie, putting it on over the t-shirt.

I grabbed my phone, turning off notifications and turning off the locations settings on everything before opening the door to my room and heading over to where the balcony was which had a staircase back downstairs.

The only time that staircase was ever used was when I was sneaking out to be honest. My parents never used it and neither did my sister.

•

I had refused to drink most of the night. Not because of my age or health concerns. It was because I was afraid I'd accidentally tell someone about day 13 or DT if you wanna shorten it even more, and ruin everything. While I was only 15 that's not too crazy. I mean if I was drinking it wouldn't have been too crazy. Not normal, but not insane.

But eventually, I found myself dizzy, vision slighting fading every so often, and feeling sick. "Chance." I heard someone say, kind of faintly. I couldn't pin who it was. "Chance." They said again, this time I could tell who it was. Eric. I turned around, facing him. "Hey." I said, trying not to seem as out of it as I was. "Hey." He said, "you drank before?" He asked and I shook my head 'no'. "Do you feel okay?" I wanted to lie but couldn't bring myself to so I shook my head 'no' again.

"Wanna go home?"

"I can't." I said, knowing my parents would kill me if they caught me not only sneaking out but sneaking back in practically about to pass out.

"My parents aren't home. Do you wanna spend the night at my place?" He asked and my mind flashed back to all those films we had watched in middle school. It felt like a bad idea. "Are you sure?.." I asked, hesitant. Despite the fact that I'd probably fall over if someone so much as poked me too rough, my thoughts weren't as blurred as my senses.

"Yeah, of course." He grabbed my hand, gently. "Wait." I said, panicking slightly. "Yeah?" He asked, looking back at me. "Can I trust you?" I asked, kind of scared. "Do you trust me?" He countered the question. "Yeah but.." he cut me off. "Then yes. You can trust me. I promise." He said and I just nodded, following his guidance out of the house.

Neither one of us had a drivers licence yet since we were literally in grade nine. So we ended up walking. But it was okay, no one died or anything so y'know, that's always a plus.

•

"Alright, come on.." Eric mumbled, guiding me over to the couch. "Sit." He said and I didn't really react, I just let myself fall backwards into the softness of the couch behind me.

"You feel any better?" He asked, moving my hair out of my face. "You're warm." He mumbled, putting his hand back against my forehead for a second. I just shrugged. "Probably just hot from being in such a crowded area for so long." I said, my vision blurring together slightly. "Are you wearing a shirt under your sweater?" He asked and I nodded.

"Do you want me to-" I cut him off, completely forgetting about something so obvious. "Yeah, Yes." I said, nodding.

He gently reached for the hem of my sweater, careful not to grab my t-shirt as well before pulling it up over my head and tossing it to the other end of the couch. He kind of glanced at my arm for a second but quickly blinked and looked away, not saying anything.

"Try and get some sleep okay? I can't promise you'll feel completely better in the morning but you'll be a little better." He said, grabbing a blanket from a small storage closet that was at the end of the couch, leaving it at the end of the couch. My sight getting darker and darker by the second.

I heard him faintly say something but before I could tell what it was I was out, deep in the unconscious state that was either passing out or falling asleep. I'm not quite sure which. Maybe a mix of both.

•

I woke up the next morning, my head hurt but that wasn't the first thing I noticed. No. The first thing I noticed was that I was wearing a t-shirt. I panicked, looking around for my sweater. A faint memory of Eric leaving it at the end of the couch was in the back of my head but it was there anymore.

"Morning sleepy-head." I heard Eric say, walking into the room. I just blinked at him, half confused and still half asleep. "I left your sweater on the chair behind you." He said before I could even ask. I just nodded, turning and reaching for my hoodie, quickly pulling it over my head and putting my arms back through the sleeves.

DT. Fuck.

"Hey Uhm Eric.." I said, hesitantly. "Yeah?" He asked, sitting in a chair across from me now. "Did I say anything that seemed.. questionable, last night?" I asked, worried I might have accidentally told him.

"Not really no." He shrugged. "Why you hiding something?" He said, laughing softly. "No. Just curious.." I said, tracing my finger along the back of the opposite hand.

"I called your mom." He said and I looked at him worried. "Don't worry. I told her you stayed over because we were working on an assignment for science. She has no idea about the party and your dads on his way to pick you up." He said. "I told my parents the same story too so they won't mix anything up as long as neither of us saying anything." I just nodded.

"Thanks for letting me stay here last night." I said, kind of quietly. "Don't worry about it." He said, tapping his foot against the chair he was sitting on.

•

February 25th, 2032

The more and more research I do on the concept of reincarnation the more it feels like a reasonable conclusion. Granted, that's coming from a girl who also thinks shooting up her school is a reasonable retaliation to bullying. Then again, that is reasonable. People just think it isn't. I mean, on the topic of Eric, he's been acting kind of weird since that party. He's not being mean or anything. He just seems I dunno.. conflicted? I'm not sure that's the best word. The again, what is the best word. He's just seemed a bit off I guess. Maybe that's just Eric being Eric though. I don't really know him too well. This could be perfectly normal for him.

•

"Hey." I said, walking up to Eric outside the east doors after school. "Hey." He said, kind of quietly. There he goes again with all that weird shit. "Come on." I said, trying to get him to start walking but he just stayed there, leaning against he walk, absentmindedly.

"Eric. Let's go." I said, seriously. Still nothing.

He looked like he was about to say something but then someone walked past, leaving the building and he shook his head, as if trying to push away a thought before kicking himself off the wall and walking with me to the bus stop.

"You feeling alright today?" I ask, kind of worried. Sure he had been acting weird recently. But that was just.. I dunno, out of place. “Yeah, just stressed.” He shrugs. “About?...”

“School. Homework. Y’know, that stuff.” I nod, as we turn onto another street, continuing to the bus stop.

Chance’s House ~ 6:30pm

“Chance..” Eric said, looking over at me. I put my phone down. “Yes?” I ask, looking up to face him. “Can I tell you something, you can’t get mad about it though.” He says, sounding nervous. “Yeah, of course.” I say, figuring it was probably something stupid and he was over reacting.

“That night when we went to that party..” he began, seeming like he didn’t know how to word what he was going to say. “Go on..”

“I wouldn’t normally mention this but-“ he cut himself off. “Just say it, Eric.” I say, slowly but surely losing my patience.

“I uh.. I saw your arms.” He said, kind of quietly. I felt my heart rate pick up instantly. “And I wouldn’t mention this if it was just scars.. but it wasn’t.” He continued. “Eric..” I couldn’t figure out an appropriate sentence. Somehow the only words I could think to say were “I’m sorry.”

He looked at me, confused. “For what?”

I just shrugged. “Chance I’m not mad at you. And I’m not gonna tell anyone. That’s for you to do when you’re ready. If anything I should be the one apologizing.” He said and then I looked at him confused. “For?”

He shrugged.

“Can I ask something though..” he said, almost hesitantly. “Yeah, I guess.”

“Why do you do it? If you don’t want to tell me you don’t have to it’s just-“ I cut him off. “It’s a trap.” Was all I said. He looked at me confused. “You do it once and you get trapped. It’s not as simple as you think. It’s an addiction.” He nodded slowly, seeming to be thinking about something.

“I guess that makes sense..” he said, seeming distracted.

“You haven’t...” he quickly interrupted. “No. I haven’t. Just used to know someone who did is all.” He said and I nodded, understandingly.

“Soooooo......” I said, awkwardly, after a bit of silence. “So...” he repeated, clearly just as uncomfortable as I was.

Closer.

“I should probably..” he trailed on, but didn’t finish his sentence.

Closer.

“Get going..” I said, finishing his sentence for him, noticing his gaze had fallen to my lips.

Closer.

I could feel the warmth of every breath he took hitting my lips softly. Both of us too afraid to do what we both knew was bound to happen. Only mere centimetres from each other’s faces.

After a couple awkward seconds, I realized he wasn’t gonna make the first move and quickly moved my hand, gently placing it on the back of his neck and sealing the small space that had been left between our lips.

He almost seemed thrown off for a second, maybe confused? But quickly kissed back, his hand rested on my hip. After a couple seconds I pulled away. My mind in a state that seemed so foreign. I thought my mind would be running a mile a minute but it felt like it was frozen, moving in slow motion.

How- when- I couldn’t wrap my head around how our previous interactions lead to this.

But to be quite honest, I didn’t care how our previous interactions lead to this. Because regardless, it happened. 

•

February 26th, 2032

Fuck. Fuck. Fuck.

What did I do- I mean I know what I did but like, I’m not meant to care about people this much. Why the hell do I care about him this much. He’s just another person- another idiot too scared to take matters into their own hands because they can’t see what they need to do. And yet, despite all that, he still seems so strangely perfect. I mean DT isn’t for two more years, I can have whatever relationships I want right now. But it just.. it feels right and wrong at the same time. And that sounds so cliché but it’s true. It’s like all that stupid shit disappears when I’m with him. Like he understands me even though he knows nothing about me. Like he actually cares. And yet at the same time it feels like somehow, some way, he’s gonna ruin everything I have planned. Everything about DT. It’s been my dream since fifth grade, y’know. To shoot up a school. I’ve wanted to do it since I was eleven. And now I’m trying to make that dream a reality and just- FUCK. Okay I need to calm down. I still have two years. This means nothing. He could randomly move schools, stop talking to me, literally anything could happen before DT. I have no reason to be this worried right now.

-

On the topic ofDT, I did a little googling, nearest police station to our school is only ten minutes away by car. Which means I’ve gotta take out as many people as possible in as little time as possible. Which again: Shooting lessons with uncle Tony.

<<R E V E N G E>>

All I know now is karma is coming for Ridgeview and that karma is me. They’ve treated me like shit for years. It’s time they get what’s coming for them. ~”But he’s coming for you, yeah he’s coming for you.”~ Man I need to stop listening to that song. It came out in like 2010. It’s 2032 now. There’s gotta be new songs about shootings somewhere. I mean there’s that one song about Columbine that came out in 2020. But that’s about it. At least that’s all I can think of. I’m sure there are others out there though.

Anyway, I’m thinking the best plan of action with how close the police are to the school is just to pull out a gun mid class and shoot whoever is in my line of sight and then maybe go out in the halls and shoot anyone skipping or who looks out to see what’s happening (if anyone’s that dumb) and then just y’know.. turn the gun on myself, off myself. Simple as that. Of course there are other ways I could do it. Like hide it under my jacket, since I’m doing it in March it’ll probably be freezing, walk into the school and just kind of.. go for it. Kill as many people as I can (obviously) and then myself. Easy peasy. Well easy from that point on. The hard part is gonna be getting a gun, hiding it from my parents until DT and yeah that’s about it really. But it shouldn’t be too hard. Tons of people have done it before. Who says I can’t? Oh right. Nobody but stupid fucking ‘morals’ and that invisible line of social acceptance that shouldn’t even exist. We’re animals. Literal animals. And expected to act like some sort of gods. News flash: we’re not gods/goddesses. We’re human beings. Animals. Nothing more. Nothing less.


	4. ILoveYou

March 12th, 2033

A year from tomorrow. A year from tomorrow everything will happen. I spent most of the summer at aunt Katla and uncle Tony's cottage (uncle Tony toned down his sexism a bit after realizing women can in fact use firearms successfully which was nice). It's weird, I mean this time next year I'll be getting ready to do what I've wanted since fifth grade and what I've been planning since I was 15. (I'm 16 now). And this time next year I'll be getting ready to be dead within 24 hours. Harsh. But reality. I mean I'm ready for it. It's not like I've ever valued my life. I just want this all over and done with. One final 'fuck you' to the world and then take myself out too. Not because I want to die with those idiots but because I see no use in my life. And I don't mean that in a 'oh I'm so sad. Pity me' type of way. I mean that in a 'humans are useless, and that's what I am' type of way. But also in a 'you made me do this' way.

•

I made my way back into my room, Eric sitting on the couch where he was when I left. I noticed he seemed slightly scared but didn't question it. That was pretty normal for him sometimes. I knew better than to question it.

Plus we were both pretty awkward when we were alone together after that one night last year.

We never really talked about it again. It just never came up I guess.

"Somethings on your mind." I said, sitting on the couch opposite him.

"Well yeah, I'd be dead if I wasn't thinking about something." He said, tapping his finger against his knee. "Seriously, you're thinking about something. What's up?"

"Just thinking." He shrugs. "About?" "Things."

"Like what?" I question, trying to get him to tell me already. "Just things." He said and I rolled my eyes. "I'm gonna need you to be a little more specific than that." I said and he kind of glanced around the room before speaking kind of quietly.

"Don't call me a psycho~"

"Trust me I won't."

"Do you ever, just.. I dunno, not mind things that the average person would think was disturbing beyond description?" He asked, looking out the window, not wanting to make eye contact. "Yeah, sometimes."

"Do you ever wonder what it would be like to be the cause of those things?" He added, seeming uncomfortable and a bit nervous.

"Yeah.." I said, thinking back to that day when we had that 'real' lockdown in ninth grade. The way I had wondered so desperately how it would feel to be the reason all those kids were in so much fear.

"No. I mean like seriously fucked up things.." he said, finally looking at me. "I know what you mean, Eric." I said, now it was my turn to avoid eye contact, glancing down at the coffee table that sat next to the couch we were on.

"I mean things like~" I cut him off. "Like murder?"

He nodded.

"Please don't think I'm crazy." He said, sounding worried. "I just told you I have the same thoughts. I don't think you're crazy. I think you've just been on the same side of that stupid social acceptability line as I have all along." I said, almost feeling like he might be joking and think I'm a psychopath now. "Would you ever...." he didn't finish his sentence. I nodded hesitantly, wondering if I should tell him about DT or not. Would he be cool with that? Or would he think I was a psycho and call the cops.

Before I had the chance to think it over very much, he spoke up again. "Y'know I've only ever told one other person about all this." He said, staring down at the couch. "Who?" I question, curious who he was referring to. "Dylan."

Of course he told Dylan. They're best friends. I should've seen that one coming a mile away.

"I've never really told anyone." I said, leaning back against the armrest of the couch. It felt weird. To tell someone. I mean really get down on a personal level and talk to someone about how I really felt. I didn't think anyone else in this godforsaken school thought the same way as me. I thought I was the only one blessed with common sense. And yet, he seemed so..

"Hey uh, Chance.." he said, and I realized I had gotten ridiculously close to him.

"Oh shit, sorry."

I quickly moved to back away but he pulled me down so I was laying next to him. "Do you mind if we stay like this a little longer?" He asked, running his fingers through my hair. I rested my head on his chest, my arm draped over him. "Not at all.." I mumbled, cuddling up against him.

The one thing I didn't think we had in common was the pure feeling of love and confusion that had taken over my life ever since that day all the way last year in February. I never thought I was genuinely capable of love. I didn't understand what it meant. And even now, I wasn't sure I completely understood it yet. But regardless, whatever it was, was nice, and felt like a never ending sense of peace when we were together. As cheesy as it sounds, it almost felt like he completed me in a way.

The side of his hand grazed the back of my neck and I bit my lip trying not to laugh, squirming slightly. "Someone's ticklish." He said, repeating the action. "Eric I swear to~" he moved his hands down to my stomach, still tickling me. I tried to wiggle away but could. I just layed there, laughing and squirming around at the contact.

"Eric stop it." I said, trying to catch my breath from laughing so hard. "Make me." He said, moving so he had me pinned down against the couch, continuing to tickle me. "Please stop." I laughed, trying to move his hands away to no avail. "Come on, you can do better than that." He said, smiling.

"Alright but don't say you didn't ask for it." I say, using the little bit of strength I had beyond all the squirming and laughing to push him off of me. Eric landing on the carpet next to the couch.

"Ow! What the fuck!" He said, sitting up. "You're the one who was all 'you can do better than that.'!" I said, defensively.

"I didn't mean throw me off the couch!" He argued. "Well you should've specified that then!"

"Also I hardly 'threw you off the couch' I pushed you. Solid difference."

"Still assault." I rolled my eyes. "Just shut up and get back up here you idiot." I said, grabbing his hand and helping him back onto the couch.

"Eric.."

"Yeah?"

I leaned down so my lips were nearly grazing his ear, whispering ever so quietly. "I think I'm in love with you.."

He leaned his head back so he was looking up at me. "I think I'm in love with you too.." he said, softly, staring up at me.

•

March 13th, 2033, 5pm

One year from today, exactly a year from now I'll be about 5 hours dead. I decided not to tell Eric about DT just yet. Y'know, in case he goes to the cops or anything. I'm not quite ready to throw my life's mission off a cliff yet. I might tell him eventually and I may never tell him. I don't want to tell him and even if he doesn't go to the cops, then make him live knowing I'll be dead by a specific date. That's just cruel. (Like murdering people isn't? Then again, they deserve it). My relationship with Eric is well.. confusing to say the least. We're not friends, but we're not exactly dating either. I'm not sure what we are. I wanna say friends with benefits but we aren't exactly that either. Then again, do we really need a label? Can't we just go with whatever happens? It's not like any of it'll matter sooner or later even if this little thing does last until DT which I doubt it will. What he doesn’t know can’t hurt him. Right? As long as he doesn’t know about what I’m doing then everything will be fine. I’ve been leaning more towards just doing the one classroom + hallway thing but my goal originally was to kill as many people as possible which is one of the main things stressing me out about that. I’d probably kill ten people max if I did that plan where as anything else.. well, the world (or at least the school) would be my oyster. To chose who lives. And who dies. But even so, I care about one person and one person only in that school (Eric) and aside from him I want everyone I cross paths with either dead or at least severely injured. God I feel like a fucking psychopath sometimes. And for the sake of Christ- if anyone does ever read this after everything is over.. I’M NOT A PSYCHOPATH- Don’t even try to diagnose me as one. I won’t be eighteen, I’ll have been seventeen. You have to be eighteen for a ASPD diagnosis. Beyond that, I’m not mentally ill. You are. I just came to the realization that this fucking world is manipulating us all to do what they deem as acceptable and kno—

“Hey, Chance.” I heard Eric say from behind me. I jumped slightly, closing my journal. “Hey.” I said, spinning my chair around so it was facing him.

“You still hiding that notebook I see?” He said, smiling.“Indeed.”

“So what’s up?” I asked, confused seeing as he didn’t tell me he was coming over. He kind of just.. showed up. “Wondering what the hell is in that notebook that I don’t know about.” He said and I just rolled my eyes. “I’m never gonna let that one go.” I said, smiling back at him.

“Clearly.”

A couple awkward moments of silence passed. Eric was sitting on my bed, doing something on his phone and I was still sitting at my desk. I closed the drawer after putting my journal away.

“Can I ask you something kind of random?” Eric asked, suddenly.

I just nodded, spinning my chair back to face him again.

“Do you believe in past lives?”

“I’m sorry what?”

He repeated the question: “Do you believe in past lives?” I cleared my throat, awkwardly. What was he trying to get at? Had he read my journal? Did he know about all the weird theories- shit. DT. Does he~

“Yes or no, Chance. Do you?”

“I dunno, I think it’s possible.” I said, scared as to where this conversation might lead.

“Would you believe someone if they said they remembered their past life?”

“Maybe. Depends how many details said person had to offer that actually matched a real person.” I said, grabbing my water bottle and nervously taking a sip.

“I have another question..” he said, and I just blinked at him, curious.

“You found out what Columbine was when you were seven. I know that much. But did it ever scare you?” I thought about it for a moment, hesitantly shaking my head ‘no’.

“Why not?”

“I- I don’t know..” I said, knowing deep down it was because I wanted to do the same and I always had wanted to do the same.

“Would you change anything about what happened if you could?” I shook my head again. He seemed intrigued by that. “Would you be afraid of me if I said~” I cut him off, already knowing where he was going.

“That you remember your past life and still have the same mind frame? That the reason your birthday is the same as Dylan’s, and that you get weird every time our school has a fire drill is because.....” I trailed off, not finishing my sentence.

“Yeah..” he said, awkwardly.

“I wouldn’t be scared of you at all..” I said, looking over at him, slightly nervous but not because I was afraid of him. Because the situation was so.. well.. unusual and unique. It was scary. “I fucking love you, and nothing will ever change that.” I said as I climbed onto the bed, crawling up to him. “Even if you are a psycho.” I said, smiling.

“‘Cause you’re my psycho....”

I sat next to him, scooting as close to him as I could and resting my head on his shoulder. “Besides.....”

I brought my lips to his ear; whispering softly: “I’m just as crazy as you.”

He turned his head to look at me.

“What do you mean you’re ‘just as crazy as me’?” He questioned. “I literally just said I was a school shooter and I’d do it again.” He said, almost sounding.. concerned?

“Y’know that journal I never let you read?” I say and he nods, seeming hesitant. “It’s in the top drawer to the right on that desk under some school work..”

“Okay? And?”

“Read it..” I said quietly.

“Are you sure? You protect that thing like it’s your child from a stranger sometimes..” he said and I just nodded. “If you say so..” he mumbled, hopping off the bed and walking over to the desk, opening the drawer and putting the school papers on the desk, taking out the notebook.

He looked back at me, seeming to be seeking some sort of approval. I just nodded and he slowly opened the book to the first page. “Skip to February of last year.” I said, my heart rate picking up.

He didn’t respond or react, he just flipped through the pages, looking for one that said ‘February 2032’.

He went silent for a couple minutes once he found it, looking through the first page. “Oh..” he mumbled. “You really~” he kept mumbling things under his breath as he continued reading. Stopping once he reached the end of February 2032.

He closed the book, putting it down on my desk. “Y’know.. if you wanted some help......” he trailed off, climbing back onto the bed next to me and placing a quick kiss to my lips. “I could always help you out where you need it.” He said. “The only issue I have with that journal is some of the shit you said about me before we met.” He said, laughing awkwardly.

“Oooooo, Sorry. Forgot about that stuff..” I said, apologetically.

He just shrugged. “It’s whatever.”

“So you really wanna....” I just nodded. “Are you sure?” “Been sure since I was eleven.” He kind of just blinked at me, running his fingers through my hair gently. “Do you regret it?” I ask, suddenly. “Hm?”

“Columbine.. do you regret what you did?” I question. He shook his head ‘no’. “Dylan does sometimes but as I said, I’ve still got the same mind set to it.” He explained, laying next to me.

“But are you absolutely sure it’s something you want for yourself?” He questioned and I nodded. “I’m sure.”

“Aren’t you the one who was all ‘I want people to follow in our footsteps’ anyway, Mr. Godlike” I said, smiling, and biting back a laugh. “But you are pretty godlike. Both in this life and the last.” I say and he smiled, pulling me closer to him. “And you’re my fucking goddess..” he said softly. Before placing a soft kiss to the top of my head.


	5. Bonnie & Clyde

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapters a little darker. So y’know.. trigger warning for: encouraging self harm/encouraging suicide, suicide attempt, self harm, blah, blah, blah. All the things you probably expected from this if you read the tags this is under.

"So do you want help or not?" Eric asked, coming up behind me in the hall. "We're in the middle of the school and you decided now was the best time for this conversation?" I ask, forcing back a laugh.

"Sorry but I texted you and you ignored me." He shrugged.

"So yes or no?"

To be quite honest, I didn't know if I wanted his help. But then again, maybe having someone actually experienced in this field helping me.. I could reach my goal of killing as many people as possible. I still felt bad though. Not for what I was gonna do but for the fact that there was now a known countdown to my death. Eric knew. He had a date and general time. It was just a countdown until the eventual act would finally take place.

"I'm not sure. But I do know one thing.." I said, "and what's that?" He asked. "I don't want you at school when it happens." I said quietly. "I don't want you anywhere fucking near this place."

"But~"

"No 'buts'. Unless you plan on going down with me, you're not coming to school." I said, seriously.

"Wait so that's an option? I can join?" He questions, sounding a little more enthusiastic than he should have. "I'd advise against it, but if you want to, sure." I said as we made our way down the halls.

"Guess we're bouta pull some Bonnie and Clyde shit then." He said, smiling as he grabbed my hand as we continued walking.

"Wait did you just refer to us as an actual couple?"

"Yeah... are we not one?"

"I mean I guess we are. It's just that neither of us have ever said it before.."

A couple seconds of awkward silence passed.

"Now for the love of god. We're in the middle of the school. So let's talk about something else could we?" I said and he just nodded in agreement.

•

March 15th, 2033

I shouldn't have let Eric get involved in this. I know he was willing, and it was his idea to be involved. But it just feels wrong. I don't want any part in whatever may cause his death and him being a part of this guarantees I'll be part of his death no matter what. I may not cause his death but I'll have caused the events leading to it and somehow that's worse. I mean I get that he said he didn't regret anything from.. y'know.... but like, how much does that really mean? But then again.. he probably (while maybe not shooting up another school) would have done something similar again anyway. I dunno, with the idea that past lives and reincarnation exists.. it's fucking with my head. What if I do this, kill myself, and just wind up living another life, having to go through what he's been going through his whole life. I mean there's 18 years of peace in between there but- then again, no matter when or how I die that would happen. It's not like I have any control over it anymore. I never did. I just don't want Eric's death being blamed on me.. he's the only person I've ever cared about but I know damn well after Columbine happened there were tons of people saying Dylan was conned into it when he wasn't. Or at least there's no proof he was. In fact he was first to mention anything about it in his journal. Not Eric. I can almost guarantee someone tries to blame me. Calls me a psycho (that'll probably happen regardless). Calls me manipulative. Says I threatened him, forced him, anything. Because they'll see this book, and they'll assume since I wrote about a plan first and I had such a 'crazy' thought process, that I made him do it. Because 'oh no, the sweet little boy we all knew and loved would never have done something like that!' Bullshit. Absolutely all of it. Nothing but bullshit. Eric offered to help. He wanted to join. And I don't even want him to have a part in this anymore. So just screw off. I never forced anything, I never threatened anyone, and I never manipulated anyone! You just want to make me seem like some sort of psychopath when that's not even possible because psychopaths can't feel love or understand love. I understand love, I love Eric, I'm not fucking a psychopath. In fact I'm more stable than any of you idiots. What you call a 'psychopath' is usually just someone who listens to what the real world is like. Someone who understand how nature is supposed to be. Understands that it's kill or be killed. Understands that we're human beings, and we're no where near the top of the food chain in reality. But we convince ourselves we're so much better and convince ourselves life has purposes by believing in things like god. Be honest with yourself, does your life have purpose or do you think god gives you purpose? I mean really. Some dude in the sky with no proof of existence is the only thing giving you a reason to live. That says something about how pathetic this world is. It really fucking does.

•

"Maybe they were right, maybe you are a fucking psycho!" I said, nearly screaming. "Oh so I'm the psycho!?" Eric argued at the same volume.

"Yeah, you kind of fucking are!"

"Fine, try your stupid little plan without me then. You saw how it turned out for Dylan and I. Good fucking luck!"

"You two tried to bomb the school. Completely different concept." I said, seriously. My voice at a semi-normal volume. "There's no way I could fail as badly as that when I don't even have goals that high."

"Fine. But don't come crawling back to me when your ass gets arrested because you couldn't figure out timing." He said, adding on quickly: "Have fun spending the rest of your pathetic life in prison like some sort of caged fucking animal." That was when I felt a tear fall down my cheek, dripping down to the floor making a soft tap when it hit the wooden floor beneath me. "Really? You're seriously gonna cry?"

"Yeah I seriously am when you say shit like that!" I said, voice slightly shaky. "Well do yourself a favour and save the tears for when your life goes to shit without me."

“Also..”

I looked up over at him, slightly hopeful.

That hope instantly crashing down when he uttered the words: “cut deeper next time.” Not only my hope came crashing down. It felt like my world was crashing down.

But without another word, he left, slamming my bedroom door behind himself and leaving.

Thankfully I had been home alone so nobody heard that whole argument. But I still found myself, sitting on my bed, looking through my journal. An occasional tear slipping down onto the page, leaving small wet spots.

The writing on one page reading: "I understand love, I love Eric, I'm not fucking a psychopath.”

I smiled, weakly. Running my finger across the writing. To be honest, I didn’t understand love. But I knew I had felt it before. I knew I loved Eric. I would have died for that boy at his command. I would have done anything for him. Anything.

Anything to make him happy....

Absolutely anything in my power that he wanted, I would do.

So I did.

I stood reached over to my nightstand, pulling the drawer open and taking out a small ring box that was from a ring my dad had gotten me a few years ago. Now it held 3 small blades in it. And had been buried in that drawer for about a month.

I dropped the box on my bed, not bothering to close the drawer before going over to my bedroom door, locking it.

I grabbed a towel from my closet, not wanting anyone to have to deal with cleaning blood off of too much and tossed it onto my bed before climbing back up, leaning my head back, slightly hitting my head against the wall but barely noticing. Without looking, I closed my journal, tucking it away in my nightstand, pushing the drawer closed and then leaning my head forward again.

I picked up the small box, my hand slightly shaky. Not from nerves, but from the lack of food and water I had consumed during the day.

But that didn’t matter anymore, nothing did. Nothing but Eric’s happiness meant anything to me in that moment. I moved the towel and rolled up my sleeve, staring blankly at the faded scars that littered my arm. Opening the box slowly, and taking out one of the blades.

I hesitated momentarily, holding it mere millimeters from my skin. Eric’s words playing on repeat in my head. I knew he may have just said that because he was angry. But he usually meant things he said while angry a lot more than he meant things he said while calm.

And on that thought, I added a little more pressure, finally letting the cool metal touch my skin, hesitantly and slowly dragging it across. At first I was hesitant, the first couple cuts were slow and more painful than they needed to be. Before I remember the thought of “just go for it.” And that was what I did. Not even thinking and just going for it, not bothering to try and keep track of how many times the cold piece of metal had grazed my skin. Because it simply..

Did. Not. Matter..

That was when I heard a knock on my door. And instead of stopping or even responding, I sped up the process, “Chance.” Another knock.

That’s not mom or dad. That’s not even Katie.....

Eric.

“Chance.” He said a little louder, knocking again. “I know you’re in there. The door only locks from the inside.” He said, seriously.

A tear fell down my cheek.

“Eric..” I said, so quietly, I thought he might not hear. “Yeah?” He asked, I heard him try at the doorknob again. When I didn’t say anything he called out my name again, this time asking if I was okay.

I’m pretty sure he heard me crying though because he seemed to get more desperate to get into the room after that. “Eric~” I said again, my sight fading in and out. “I’m right here, baby. Just let me in..” he said, sounding worried. “I love you..” I mumbled, my body feeling kind of heavy, like I couldn’t move, almost as if being held down by something. The tingling feeling faded slowly and I heard the sound of metal hitting wood and a slightly louder tap as the small box that now only held two blades, fell to the floor. “This is it.. this is what death feels like....” I thought and just before I passed out I heard Eric manage to get the door open somehow.

And that was it. Darkness.

•

I heard a faint beeping sound, quick footsteps, someone writing something down, a few voices around me. All I could see was a bright light and I opened my eyes, squinting at the light, realizing where I was, seeing a glass door in front of me, with a rod over it to bring a curtain closed that was current half way across. The door to the small room left open.

I could still barely see because it was so bright, but I could feel something touching my hand.

I looked down, seeing someone’s hand intertwined with mine and turned my head weakly, only to see Eric, asleep in a chair next to me.

“Oh, you’re awake.” A lady said, walking into the room. I turned to get a better look at her. “You’re at~” I automatically interrupted not even thinking about it. “Ridgeview Children’s Hospital, ICU.” I said and she tiled her head, looking down at her clipboard, realizing something. Likely that I had been here before. “Yes.” She nodded in agreement.

“You feel okay? Need anything to eat? Drink? Need to use the restroom or anything?” She asked, “water.” I said, “please.”

“I’ll get you a cup.” She said and I nodded before she left the room. I felt a slight squeeze on my hand, looking over at Eric, expecting him to be awake. He was still sound asleep next to me. That was when I saw the clock that was on the wall across from me, squinting, trying to read it. 6:30am.

I heard footsteps get closer as the lady from before came back into the room, holding a small styrofoam cup, filled with water. “Do you want it now or should I leave it on the table?” She asked and I just put my hand out, she handed me the cup and I brought it to my lips immediately. My throat was strangely dry. “Your little friend hasn’t left your side since you got here. Think you found a keeper.” She said, smiling weakly. I put the cup down on the table next to me with my uninjured arm.

“Yeah.. I think so too...” I said, looking over at Eric. He looked so peaceful when he slept. “He wanted to be awake when you woke up but I guess he passed out from staying awake so long.” She said. “Do you need anything else?” I shook my head ‘no’.

“Alright, if you need anything, just press that button, okay?” She said, pointing to a button. I nodded.

•

I heard slight rustling next to me and realized Eric had woken up. I turned my head, smiling weakly at him, squeezing his hand which was still laced with mine, lightly.

He looked up at me, almost seeming to be in shock. “I’m sorry.” Were the first words to come out of his mouth and I looked at him confused.

“I never should have said all that stuff. I’m supposed to be the Clyde to your Bonnie and I almost got you killed.” He said, and I just laughed softly. “What’s so funny?” He questions.

“Clyde did get Bonnie killed..” I said, finally making eye contact with him. “Not on purpose.” He said and I just blinked at him. “You were trying to get me killed?” “I- I didn’t mean it like that. I knew you’d listen to me when I said that and I said it anyway. That’s what I meant.” He said, trying to save himself from completely sounding like a psycho.

“As I’ve said before, you may be a psycho.. but you’re my psycho.”

“Hey uhm.... quick question.” I said, realizing I hadn’t seen either of my parents. “Yeah?”

“Parents. Have they been here?” I ask. “Your dad was at work so he’s on his way here now and I have no clue about your mom. No one could get in contact with her.” He said and I just nodded.

•

“I can not believe you would do something that fucking stupid!” My mom yelled the second we got into the house. “Leave me alone, mom.” I said, kicking off my shoes.

“No! What type of selfish bitch did I raise!? Can’t you think about anyone else for more than ten seconds!?” I just glared at her. “Can’t you think about anyone else but yourself for more than never.” I argued, before running up the stairs back into my room, locking the door and taking out my phone, calling Eric.

“Hey,” he said, picking up the call. “You Alright?”

“Define ‘Alright’.”

“My mom just yelled at me and called me selfish.” I said, falling backwards onto my bed.

“Chance, you’re the furthest thing from selfish.” He said, seriously. “You literally almost died because someone else told you to do something.”

“I only did it because I love you..”

“I know, but please, never do that again.” He said and my mind faded off to the topic of DT. “What about.... y’know.......” trailed off. “Day Thirteen?” He asked. “Yeah.”

“Do you still wanna do it?” He asked.

“Do you still wanna help?” I countered.

“Of course I do.” He stated.

“Good.” I said, a sense of finality in my voice.

“Good.” He agreed.

“This is our way out..”

“And no one, can stop it.”


End file.
